The Duke and the DJ (The Rebel Royals 3)

The cultured accent rolled into her ears. The abundance of T’s in his sentence hit a switch, urging her to record the sounds coming from his mouth and place them in the cloud with the rest of her treasures.

He rubbed at the back of his neck as he peered down at her. Spin’s gaze traveled to his rolled up sleeve to his tanned bicep. Her throat was suddenly dry. She couldn’t remember a man ever making her feel thirsty.

Zhi shrugged his shoulders, the muscles bunching and flexing beneath his shirt. “I know nothing of EMD."

"EDM,” she enunciated each letter in the correct order. “Electronic dance music."

He nodded, but his brow was still furrowed showing he clearly didn’t understand the topic he was speaking on. Spin bit her lip. She certainly didn’t find the expression adorable. Not one bit.

"I don't know much about it or the culture,” he said. “But I have an interest in Parker.”

Spin’s clear gaze darkened. She bit the inside of her lip harder to keep her mouth shut.

“I was hoping you could help me with understanding her?”

"I don't know her,” said Spin. “We only just met the other day at a party where she heard me play.”

"You two speak the same language. Turned and rages and candy.”

The way he spoke the slang, all proper with perfect diction, Spin was sure he spelled them correctly in his mind.

“You also appear to speak my language,” Zhi continued. “I’m hoping you can translate. Maybe teach me."

"Teach you what? To be a rave bunny?"

The hand that had been at his neck now rose to scratch at his temple. "I don't even know what that means?"

Spin glanced over to the side at Lark. Her friend was listening intently to the conversation. She was also eying the candy shaped man in front of them. Spin turned back to him as well. There was sugar in her voice as she spoke to clarify his distasteful suggestion.

"Okay. I'll put it in your language. You want me to be your Cyrano de Bergerac so that you can seduce Parker?"

His dark gaze lit with understanding. "Yes."

"No." Spin spat the word out in disgust.

He was taken aback. Literally. His shoulders straightened, and his chest puffed up. Spin had to look away from the display.

"Why not?" he asked.

“Because I don't help men trick women."

"It's not a trick. It's a translation.”

Spin still frowned her disgust up at him.

“I’ll pay you."

“Oh.” The word came out as a long sigh. She took a deep breath as her disgust turned to anger. “Well, in that case; definitely not. I'm not gonna pimp my skills and be your prose prostitute.”

“Sorry.” He held up his hands in a stop motion. “That’s not my intention at all.”

Sure it was. He was a duke, nobility. Men like him thought they could have any woman they wanted and then drop them. She knew exactly what his intentions were. She knew exactly the type of man he was. But she wasn't used to hearing a man like him say sorry for any reason.

"I'm used to people wanting money," Zhi said. "Or favors from me. I’m not used to asking for help or handouts. I’ve botched it, haven’t I?”

"Yeah. You did.”

But her words were cautious. She wasn’t sure of the trajectory of this conversation. He sounded like he was truly sorry. At the same time, he admitted to why she knew he was wrong. She was entirely confused.